• [CHRISTIA] new poetry, "The Mighty Chord"

    From Mark@1:396/4 to Practical Christian Life on Sat Jun 6 02:14:09 2020
    From: lamppoet@CENTURYTEL.NET (Mark)

    Sometimes there is nothing so tangible as loneliness.

    "The Mighty Chord"

    ("The apostles left and went from village to village, telling the good news
    and healing people everywhere." Luke 9:6)

    There is a mass of loneliness nearer may heart than
    any other definition or silent wanderer; just like the furthest planet
    in a solar system of dustless ions. A planet
    because the loneliness is not empty; it is tangible;
    a hardwood enlargement of lead-weight emotion
    with gravity so strong that nothing stays long but
    is boomeranged into its own orbit across the outskirts
    where longing and time rarely cross.

    It is what I write about because it is wound about my being;
    and so many ask when the flowers will appear in my poetry,
    the hearts and forests, the hope and choruses of love.

    And usually, once someone has noticed the sadness in
    each letter on the page,
    I force the petal of a rose between the stanzas. Yet it
    wilts between the writing and the reader. I was made this way,
    because that space, so heavy and so empty, has always been the
    first phrase of the next thing I thought or wanted.

    And yet, I've been asked by the One Friend,
    in some way, with some convincing tone,
    to lay the good news down like the hook; "The next sound
    you will hear is a mighty chord of 9 grand pianos finishing the song."

    I've been told He fills me, but my gut feels empty,
    save for the solid mass of longing where the loneliness has
    made its home.

    I once thought there would be a friend, maybe two; and
    I watched Joan Baez celebrate her 75th birthday with friend
    after friend after friend, sing their duets with her. I thought there
    might be a duet started early that stayed for the last encore.

    But the ones I wanted near the end, half have turned their backs,
    moved down another road too difficult to navigate now. So I plow
    down the path the same way I began, almost convinced that friendship
    is not worth the time I took to get it from beginning to banned.

    The weight stays nearer my heart than any can imagine. Lonely.
    It's true, I'm a forgiven man, and a healed one, too. But time has
    robbed me of the hugs

    While space has subtracted.

    Come near, please, only if you know there stands a weight between
    your good intentions
    and my lonesome heart.



    Subtracted,

    mark p.

    lamppoet@centurytel.net



    Mark's Blog

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